These Hands
by sopmire
Summary: Sequel to Soon Parted. Tony continues to deal with the fallout from Senior, in positive and negative ways. Plus cases, confrontations and payback, Oh My!
1. Chapter 1

_Hola all! This picks up immediately after it's predecessor, Soon Parted. Timeline warning I didn't think to include last time: definitely 07.12 Flesh and Blood, 09.10 Sins of the Father, 09.17 Need to Know, and merest hint of 09.01 Nature of the Beast and 09.19 The Good Son. Definitely pre 09.23 Up in Smoke (they may be changing what we know about Dorneget so far, so I have to start posting this! ;), and pretending 08.07 Broken Arrow never happened. Thanks large heaps to Scousemuz1k, ILU Greg, and my Hubbie, for encouragement and great advice, and generally everybody who read and liked my first story. Your support is fantastic! _

_Warning: if the first story was too short this one may well be too long. Also, the bloodletting takes a bit to get to, just be patient… bwahahaha!_

* * *

Chapter One

Everyone at NCIS, including Ned Dorneget, knew DiNozzo was a movie nut. But this drive to re-interview Anderson's neighbor was amazing so far; a discussion of their favorite horror movies had led to their agreeing psychological and suspense horror was vastly more interesting than slasher movies. And then the senior agent proceeded to expound rapidly upon the subject for easily twenty minutes straight; literary comparisons, remakes of European films, nods to previous film greats within modern movies. Ned had always heard DiNozzo was a talker, but this was something else, and just a tiny bit disturbing. It was like the senior agent's mouth was on autopilot. Luckily for Ned, he was fascinated by most of what DiNozzo was saying, and made mental note of some of the titles that sounded interesting.

He realized during the monologue maybe this was why DiNozzo's teammates seemed tense after spending too much time alone with him sometimes... Ned couldn't have gotten a word in edgewise if he'd wanted to.

Finally there was a gap as DiNozzo merged onto a busy highway, "Man, you really know this stuff back and forth Tony. You could really be a film professor, you know?"

After a deep sigh, Tony answered, "Yeah, that was... that's been mentioned."

Ned wasn't the most empathic fellow, but had the impression he'd said something wrong. Which kind of worked out, since there was something he'd been wanting to ask Tony about for a while.

"Hey, Tony? You know when you brought me cake that time, and kinda threatened me about my Halloween costume?"

"Oh yeah, totally!" Tony snickered as he exited to a frontage road to avoid construction.

"Well, you said saw me with a little blond in the copy room? Um, were you threatening me with my Gibbs costume... or who the blond was?" Ned asked with trepidation.

"What, that new guy in human resources? What's his name, Steve? Stan? No, Sean, right? Yeah, no, he's cool. You worried about Rule 12 man? You're aiming to be a field agent, not admin, you're totally fine there. Besides, technically you aren't on Gibb's team, so the rules..."

Ned cut him off, "No, no, it was the guy part I was worried you..."

"Ah. Ned," Tony started, shooting a small grin and level glance at his companion, "I've got a lot of character flaws, but being homophobic isn't one of them. Now blackmailing you for that Gibbs wig, oh yeah, I'm all over that. God help you if he ever finds out." As he continued to snicker, Tony's phone rang.

His smile vanished as he glanced at the caller ID. He paled abruptly and immediately pulled the car over to take the phone call. Mumbling a quick, "Need to take this Ned," Tony stepped behind the car to talk.

Ned fiddled with the radio, and was glad they were parked in the shade; his jacket was a little too hot for this warm spring day. Checking on Tony in the side view mirror, he thought whatever conversation that was looked intense. _Man, I'm glad he took that out of the car, all that yelling would make my stomach upset. Huh, I knew he was Italian, didn't know he could actually speak Italian. I've got to learn another language if I'm going to be a real field agent. Ok, have I really got all my gear this time? It would be so much worse to be embarrassed in front of DiNozzo than it already was with McGee. I don't even want to think about screwing up in front of Gibbs. Got gun, got extra clip, got pen... and... notepad, yess! Wait, no handkerchief. Is that required? Shoot, what do I do if the neighbor lady starts crying? Wait, it's a cold case... probably ok. Ned, you've __got __to start remembering the 5Ps; proper preparation prevents poor performance, for crying out loud._

Ned checked on DiNozzo in the mirror again. _He's done with the conversation, but just staring at sidewalk now, no expression. Actually... he looks really bad, that's not something you can usually say about DiNozzo. And he's still just standing there. Jeez, he's reminding me of that movie we were talking about, The Happening, where nature fights off the encroachment of man with that weird disease... if he starts walking backwards I'm going to freak out._

_Oh crap, he's barfing. I should totally have a handkerchief to offer him, damn._

Grabbing a bottle of water, Ned hopped out of the car to hand it to Tony who was leaning against a streetlight. Cracking it open, swishing and spitting, then drinking half the bottle, Tony walked to the open passenger side door and got in. Dorneget got in the driver's seat and looked questioningly at the pale senior agent, noting the locked jaw and complete lack of expression. With a flick of DiNozzo's finger forward, Ned drove the rest of the way to the neighbor's house... in total silence.

* * *

Dorneget was glad that DiNozzo appeared to be his usual self while interviewing Petty Officer Anderson's neighbor, Mrs. Twyler. And was surprised when the subject of the opposite neighbor's house came up, apparently Tony had noticed it was up for sale. Mrs. Twyler hadn't noticed exactly when Mr. Callum had moved out, and had actually assumed it was yet another foreclosure. "He never took care of his yard… one of the _signs_ you know," she confided knowingly.

Neatly sidestepping a lengthy discussion of the housing industry, the agents thanked her and departed. After noting down the real estate agent's phone number, Tony took the wheel again, thankful for the mystery of P.O. Anderson's disappearance to keep him on focus. And now he wondered how well Balboa's team had confirmed Mr. Eddie Callum being away on vacation when Anderson went missing.

During the drive back Tony returned to the topic of movies with Dorneget, but only to keep the younger agent talking. In fact, that discussion morphed to pretty much anything that kept Ned talking, with only a few questions or comments from DiNozzo. Ned finally clued in to this when he found himself describing his sweet favorite fourth grade teacher Mrs. Rose. "Hey Tony, I'm pretty good at keeping quiet about... things? Or just being quiet in general if that's what you want?"

"Hmm, nope. You talking is great. We're, you know…bonding! Hey, you don't write novels in secret do you?"

"Huh? No, I meant… I mean, no I don't write novels. But I mean if you don't want me saying anything about your… ah, you know… earlier?"

Silence returned to the car, and Ned kicked himself. His Mom always said he had to work on his tact skills.

Eventually, Tony said, "You're a good guy Dorneget, but never offer to keep secrets for people you don't know very well, especially when you don't even know what it is you're withholding. It's not a rule, but might as well be. I might be the sort of person who doesn't deserve that kind of consideration."

"Apparently I'm very much the kind of person who doesn't deserve… a lot of things. Karma. Really is a bitch sometimes, yeah? Nice offer though, you'll be a good teammate some day, whether it's Gibb's team or someone else."

Ned wanted to protest, and disagree, and agree, and say thanks, and... got confused if any of the above was a good idea right now. He hoped staying silent while turning the radio up counted as using tact like his Mom said.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Back in Abby's lab after DiNozzo's departure, the team was glad for Gibbs' direction. "We need to find out about this 'deal' Senior is involved in. All Tony said is that it involved a hotel/casino Senior talked about for two months or so."

"I'll trace the money and search for any current contracts with Mr. DiNozzo's name on them," offered McGee.

Ziva added, "As soon as we know some of the other players in this investment are, I will find leverage points amongst them."

"Good. Senior's main contact in Saudi Arabia seems to be Prince Omar ibn Alwaar… 'Al'," Gibbs said with no small amount of sarcasm. "See if his investment company is the one that issued Senior's visa."

"Boss, how much should I…" Tim huffed out a breath. "I mean, Tony was just betrayed by someone he thought he could trust. Is it ok for me to snoop through his financials like this without his permission?"

Abby added on, "We don't want to make it worse Gibbs, but we have to do something, don't we? I mean Tony usually thinks it's his place to take care of us, even if he's waaay too nosy about it sometimes, and he doesn't even imagine anything back for it."

Seeing Tim's wide-eyed look, Ziva said, "Stealing our food does not count McGee."

Gibbs paused thoughtfully. "DiNozzo did something he may never have done before, by confiding the problem to us straight away. Maybe he did it just so you wouldn't find out by rumor, but I think he did it more for the right reason… he knows the family he can trust. He's placed his trust in us."

"Find out what you can McGee, leave the rest to me." Gibbs said. "Duck?"

As always, Ducky was able to interpret the Gibbsian request, in this case to describe the effects of this emotional upheaval in one Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. "We must do something which may prove somewhat impossible my friends. We must attempt to bolster Anthony's self confidence, usually a very healthy entity, without appearing to cosset, or heaven forbid, pity him in any way. Quite rationally, he has already anticipated his reaction to our desire to render aid..."

"Control?" murmured Palmer.

"Yes," immediately said Ziva, "he is forced to face what he has lost, both in blood family and financial security, so he controls what he has left."

Ducky cocked his head to the side briefly, "Definitely involved to be sure. His pride will make him excessively prickly about accepting what he interprets as charity, anything material especially. We must be creative if it comes to that. But no, I'm a bit more concerned with the hint of absolutism in his self-abasement. Anthony is a rather complicated fellow in his innermost workings; finding fault, carrying guilt, and punishing himself accordingly usually takes place with none of us being the wiser."

Seeing Gibb's raised eyebrow, Ducky amended, "Well, not apparent to most of us at any rate. But I am concerned this time may be very different. As long as nothing new arises… well, we must simply wait and see at this point."

Gibbs worried over the same issue, as he dismissed the assembly to get back to work pursuing what leads they could find and returning to cold cases when DiNozzo and Dorneget returned. Heading out on a coffee run, Gibbs was concerned at some point Tony would pull back to lick his wounds in private. And as usual he wouldn't reach out for help at that point no matter how bad it got inside that hard head of his.

_Although he usually comes to me..._

* * *

…_I go to Gibb's house too often to talk about my freaking issues._

That night, Tony shook his head while sitting at his kitchen table, sighing at what passed for dinner tonight. _I've got to make sure he knows I'm grateful, but not hang on him. With all this new drama, he's going to get tired of me being a needy idiot. And he's said he relies on me… means I've got to be reliable for crying out loud._

_Besides now it might look like a freaking handout, showing up just in time for a great steak and potato dinner._

Looking at his bowl of white rice topped with leftover salsa he found in the back of the fridge… steak sounded unbelievably good right now. _Note to self: Never make food that actually looks like vomit. Ever._

Struggling to eat the unappetizing meal, Tony agonized over telling Gibbs the latest phone conversation with his Dad, versus sucking it up like a man. What would John Wayne do?

Dumping the last half of his soggy red rice in the trash, Tony said to himself in disgust, "John Wayne would hurry up and sell something so he could buy a decent dinner." At least he'd already taken pictures of the TV and entertainment unit and posted them online to Craig's list, just waiting on a good offer now.

As Tony slouched into his cushy armchair, it didn't even occur to him there was no movie or music on. He spiraled deep inside his own head. _Why did I even answer the phone? Can I be so stupid that I thought there was a chance he'd have a good explanation? That maybe he's calling to apologize? No, he was just calling to update me that there's been a slight snag, slight delay on the big payout. Like that's any big freaking surprise? And he wanted to make sure I wasn't taking things the wrong way, that this is practically a guaranteed investment as he had tried to tell me. What the fuck other way am I supposed to take his ripping me off? "Take you out to your favorite restaurant" my ass. "Investment" my ass. Calling me too dramatic "just like your Mother" pushed me too damn far. And the bastard hangs up on me in the middle of my telling him off because my language is "too abusive"? Fucking piece of…!_

Blood pressure high and his face red, Tony watched the tremor in his hands for a moment, visualizing them around his father's throat briefly. _How many times have I seen this as the origin of a crime? I thought I understood the motivation of "crimes of passion", but I had no idea. God, he wants to make it just about the money, but it's so freaking personal, that's what hurts. I've been trying so hard since I was twelve not to let him hurt me anymore. That's a big fat fail right now. It's like he took an axe to the heart of me and now I just want to hurt him back, but I have got to stop. _

_Have got to be reliable for Gibbs and the team. They're all you have left, don't let them down too just like you did Mom, just stop dammit. _

_Can't go down that road. You're whole career you're a good guy, remember? You know you'd regret actually choking the life out of... don't even think about that for God's sake, just stop this. _

_Just suck it up and stop this Anthony. _

_Just stop..._

Just stop.

…

Silent hours passed. Glazed eyes wide open, blinking occasionally, staring past his hands.

A phone rang… reflex to hold it to his ear, "Agent DiNozzo? This is Dispatch, sorry to wake you sir."

"No problem, what have we got?" As she spoke in his ear, he looked at the clock. _Is it really 04:00? What happened?_

"I'll call the others, thanks Sandy."

The feeling there was an elephant in the room, hiding in his blind spot diminished as he sprang to action in a well practiced work routine.

* * *

Days of exhaustive non-stop work followed. The whole team struggled to find out why Senior Chief Petty Officer Wilkerson, Antisubmarine squadron _U.S.S. George H.W. Bush_ fatally stabbed three shipmates and the resident NCIS Agent Afloat in a mess hall, before killing himself. The aircraft carrier was in-bound to her homeport of Norfolk after a long tour of duty. The team took a flight out and had completed the herculean task of interviewing every witness and contact of each of the five dead men just as the aircraft carrier reached sight of the mainland.

Although Wilkerson's superiors were immediately suspicious of PTSD being the cause, the interviews with his crewmates and friends did not support that theory. Tony noticed a breach of protocol in the initial on-board blood test and determined it had been tampered with, suggesting a more complicated situation. Tim eventually found a deleted poor performance review on a mirror backup server that threw suspicion upon one Petty Officer 1st Class Kyle Miller.

Miller, on being accused of drugging Wilkerson in order to maintain his record and receive an expected promotion, completely defied rational thought by panicking and running… while trapped on board a ship. Screaming behind him, "He wasn't supposed to kill anyone but himself! That wasn't supposed to happen!" Miller ran at top speed away from his pursuers.

Having been a restless resident on a Nimitz-class ship for many months, DiNozzo was more familiar with the corridor layout than his teammates. He managed to take a shortcut to get ahead of PO1 Miller and tackled him sideways, unfortunately into some open utility shelving. Breaking one shelf holding paint buckets, the last thing Tony saw was one bucket tumbling towards his head.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After securing a bruised but undamaged Miller, Ziva and McGee waited in the Infirmary for Tony to finish getting checked out as the _U.S.S. George H.W. Bush_ completed docking and began disembarking procedures.

McGee was shaking his head as he sat down next to Ziva, "Well, it's a good thing it's just a minor concussion. I was a little freaked out for a second by all the blood. Gibbs looked pissed."

"One of his many shades of pissed, yes. Have you had a chance to talk to Tony while we have been here?"

Tim finished a yawn before answering, "About the…? No, I tried, but no go. Just holds up a finger to stop me and shakes his head, you know?"

"Me either. He does not seem to be sleeping very well, one night I got up to use the facilities and I could see in his bunk he was wide awake."

Frowning, McGee worried, "Hmm, thought he was looking a little rough." He sighed, "I don't ever want to see him with dark circles under his eyes again like after he had the plague."

A corpsman who had walked into the holding room heard this, stopped dead in his tracks and questioned McGee, "Our current patient in there?"

Both agents nodded together in perfect time; their innocent, earnest faces sending the medic scurrying back the way he had come. Exhaustion making them a little giddy, both Tim and Ziva cracked up giggling. Tim snorted, "That never gets old!"

As they caught their breath, Tim said thoughtfully, "Hmm, it probably does for Tony though. Oh man, I hope he doesn't get pissed at me that they're fiddling with his lungs instead of just his skull now."

Gibbs, striding into the holding room barked, "What the hell's wrong with his lungs?"

"Nothing Boss!" Tim backpedaled, "I mean just the usual, nothing new Boss."

Grunting, Gibbs slowly walked to where they were treating DiNozzo, "Go grab all our gear and meet back here. Captain says he'll get us a helo flight to D.C. in twenty. Vance is satisfied. After reports are written up and Miller processed, we're off for the next three days. Back on Monday."

Stopping before entering the room, Gibbs added, "Rest up for at least a full day before working on the other project, got it? We have enough in a couple days we'll talk about it at my place."

Seeing their nods, he entered the room. DiNozzo was sitting up despite being encouraged to lie down and use an oxygen mask by the circling medics. Apparently in a foul mood, he was seething, "I don't _need_ an oxygen mask, I don't _need_ to lay down. All I _need_ is an ice pack and some butterfly bandages. You've already _applied_ the bandages, _so can I get a freaking ice pack now?_"

"You're usually a lot sweeter to the staff in hospitals DiNozzo."

Tony calmed down rapidly, "They're usually a lot more feminine Boss. No offense to the fabulously fantastic femininity of Fermina here." He threw a charming grin to the blushing medic, as she handed him an ice pack.

"And if that tongue twister isn't enough proof my head is operating as well as ever, I can tell you the one about picking a peck of peppers Boss."

"I've heard you say that one while you were practically unconscious DiNozzo." Gibbs leaned with one hand on the bed, and one on his hip, staring at Tony… and continuing to stare.

Tony looked down, then his shoulders straightened and chin went up slightly, "I know Boss."

Gibbs stepped in his agent's face, his surrogate son, surrogate younger brother's face. Not raising his voice in deference to the headache he could see practically throbbing behind Tony's eyes. "What. Do you know. DiNozzo?"

"It was a bad place to try and tackle someone. I should have found another way of bringing him down."

"Yeah. You shoulda." Gibbs held his eyes for another moment before leaning back.

This feeling was almost enough to bring a tear to Tony's eye. It mattered to Gibbs; it really mattered if something happened to him. Not only that, but Gibbs expected the best from him, expected him to use the intelligence he knew Tony possessed. And people wondered why he was so loyal to Gibbs.

Smiling a little through burning eyes, he said "Sorry Boss, you know how I get sometimes on a chase."

Gibbs gently tousled Tony's hair, "I know my St. Bernard pretty well." He leaned in to look at the forehead wound under the icepack, "So what did the Doctor say?"

"It's nothing Boss, just knocked me out for a second because it was almost exactly the same spot as I got my last concussion in that alley."

"Still need standard checks tonight, right? Plan on coming home with me after the paperwork."

"No, not even that bad. Besides, I have to get home tonight - got some guys coming to pick up some things. Landlord will only push back the rent for so long." Tony smiled, "Thanks anyway Boss, I'm good."

Gibbs growled almost silently before shaking his head once. "You see Ducky when we get back."

* * *

Rear end rapidly going numb while seated on the cold metal table, DiNozzo said with politely mild exasperation, "See Ducky, I'm fine."

"Well Anthony, any time one's body is sending pain signals to the brain one is certainly not entirely 'fine'," Ducky frowned slightly. "But I have to agree with the infirmary on the _U.S.S Bush_ that this head wound and unfortunate impact to the site of your most recent concussion is indeed minor."

Dr. Mallard continued, peering again closely at the butterfly bandages, "It is even unlikely that this laceration will leave any significant scar. I'm a bit concerned, however, about the shadows I see under your eyes Anthony. Are you not resting well?"

"Hot case Ducky, bit of a deadline with thousands of sailors and family members looking forward to being reunited at Norfolk. Pretty important not to make any of them wait on us solving the case, you know?"

"Indeed, I understand about the demands of your work Anthony. I'm glad you have the next few days off to rest up. Be sure to continue drinking plenty of fluids to offset the slight blood loss from that blow. And don't get that laceration wet until the butterfly bandages begin peeling up."

Ducky attempted to appear casual in his next enquiry, "I've been meaning to ask after the situation with your Father Tony, how are you bearing up my friend?"

Tony sucked in a deep breath, "Ah, pretty well overall. Have to move on, get over it, you know."

Sometimes in order to diagnose injuries properly, one must probe painful areas Ducky mused. "Have you considered contacting or eventually confronting him yourself?"

_Confronting him… God help me. _Tony looked down at his hands, and saw the image of his hands on his father's throat… squeezing. _Stop it. _He only managed to say quietly "Can't go there…" before lapsing into silence.

"Well, it hasn't been very long Anthony. I dare say time will heal all wounds in this case as with many others. Indeed, I met a fellow in India once betrayed by his entire extended family, which included actual participation by thirty-three people and one disloyal elephant…"

Ducky eventually realized that Tony's lack of attention was different than the glazed eyes he was unfortunately familiar with in many of his listeners. "Anthony, are you alright?"

With no answer, Ducky moved a little closer, "Anthony? …Agent DiNozzo?"

Still no answer, and Ducky moved directly in front of his patient. At least he was able to easily see that Tony's respiration was normal, and the agent appeared under no physical duress while staring at his hands. A growing unease blossomed into true concern as he thought back to DiNozzo's last words. "Ah lad, you truly meant you can't go there at all didn't you?"

Hearing the doors open behind him, Ducky took a relieved breath. As Gibbs walked closer and then stood staring at DiNozzo also, Dr. Mallard said calmly, "Jethro, you've come at a fortuitous time. Please call Anthony to order in one of your louder methods."

Gibbs frowned, but immediately did what Ducky had instructed, "DiNozzo! Front and center!"

"On it Boss!" Blinking and sucking in a deep breath, Tony looked at Gibbs then Ducky. "Oh hey Boss. So I'm good, right Duck? I'm almost done with my paperwork upstairs, mind if I get back to it?" He smiled as he grabbed his coat and hopped off the table. "I know you're not asking, but I'm telling you; I've got a date with a California King tonight and I'm hoping for eight solid hours if you know what I mean."

"That will be fine Anthony, continue taking the ibuprofen, force fluids, and call myself or Jethro if any new symptoms arise."

"Boss," Tony stopped to yawn, "I'll come back in on Sunday to review and log Ziva & McGee's reports, have everything ready for you Monday morning, ok? Night guys!"

After DiNozzo left Autopsy, Ducky shook his head and looked worriedly at Gibbs, "That was approximately a two minute dissociative episode Jethro. It is still _possible_ that… lapse was simply caused by Anthony just being excessively tired from your most recent case…"

Gibbs shook his head decisively, "I've never seen fatigue do something like that to DiNozzo before, and I've seen my team in every state of tired they have. Could it be the head wound Duck? He was a little like this in the hospital at times after that last concussion."

"Hmm, although not impossible that sort of dissociative amnesia could be related to this, I don't believe it's related to his current head wound. No Jethro, the cause appears to be much more pointedly related to Anthony's feelings towards his father. And if so, I believe we, or more importantly Anthony, has a problem."

They were both silent for a moment. Gibbs was distracted by the fact his own feelings towards Tony's father were clean and clear, causing no emotional troubled waters whatsoever.

"Has anything else developed on that front Jethro? Something that could have disturbed Anthony even farther?"

"We've been busy with the Wilkerson case. He hasn't said anything…" eyebrows lifting briefly, Gibbs continued, "which means nothing. I'll look into it Ducky."

* * *

After Tony had finished his paperwork for the night and left for home, Gibbs asked Ziva and McGee for any preliminary progress into DiNozzo Senior's "investment" to see if there were any recent developments. Tim said he had the name of the bank Tony's money ended up in and details on the hotel development deal. The expected initial payout to all investors wasn't for a year or more. The list of investors had been given to Ziva who'd had little luck finding anything useful among them as of yet, "Although we have more personal knowledge of Prince Omar ibn Alwaar, so he may well be a good place to start."

"Anything odd come up during DiNozzo's trip to wrap up the Anderson cold case?"

"Tony didn't say anything Boss. He was pretty quiet, got busy with his computer when they came back, but didn't mention anything odd. He hasn't set it in the stack to be filed yet, so there's probably something he wants to follow up on."

"You two head home and rest up. I'll check in with Dorneget before I leave."

* * *

"Ah, Special Agent Gibbs, um… I wasn't quite clear on if Agent DiNozzo wanted me to not talk about… That is, I'm not sure if I should tell you Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs stepped quite close to the junior agent, staring the taller man down easily, and said simply, "You should. Now."

Dorneget looked relieved to have the decision taken off his shoulders. "Ok, there was a phone call that really got Tony mad, and then he, well, he barfed in the gutter. But then he was quiet all the rest of the way, and he was totally fine when we interviewed the lady."

"And you couldn't hear what the phone call was about?"

"No. I mean I heard some yelling from inside the car, but it sounded like Italian, I think. I don't know Italian... yet… but I plan on learning something soon Sir. I mean a language… Agent Gibbs." Dorneget looked off to the side and began to think his own mouth was trying to sabotage him.

"And he didn't mention a thing about it when he was 'quiet'?"

"No no, quiet like completely silent Agent Gibbs. Chatty again for a little bit on the way back to the Yard, so pretty normal there too. I mean, what appears to be normal to me sir… ah, Agent Gibbs. He really can talk can't he?"

Gibbs had heard all he needed to between the phone call and a 'silent' DiNozzo, and sent Dorneget on his way. A silent DiNozzo was like a dry nose on a pup, a warning sign something's not right. He realized that phone call, undoubtedly with DiNozzo Senior, must have been the straw that broke the camel's back. _Ducky's theory may be true after all… now what can I do to fix it? In good news, at least that lapse thing's not random, seems to have a very specific trigger. I know removing the source of the problem will go along way towards the cure. Just have to do it in a way Tony can accept… _

Gibbs shook his head tiredly. _Rest for all of us, deal with dear old Dad, then I'll figure out how to…_ He chortled quietly and turned off his desk lamp before leaving, not far from giddy with exhaustion himself. …_how to get my pup's nose wet again_.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks so much to everyone reading, reviewing, and/or PMing! You guys are fantastic!_  
_And apologies for a bit of a housekeeping chapter, Tony has some changes to make before we can get back to the pack._

Chapter Four

Later that evening, Jacob, a lawyer and new senator's aide who'd gotten his undergraduate degree from Ohio State, knocked on Tony's apartment door. He'd answered the Craig's list ad to buy and move out Tony's 52" flat screen TV & entertainment unit. As he introduced his brother Lloyd and best friend Julio brought along to help with the move, Jacob enthused, "Wow, Tony I love your place! And thanks for selling me this glorious TV - I can't wait to watch my movies on it! Hey, you sure a check is ok? I can always get cash or a money order if you'd rather?"

"No man, like I texted you earlier, you're a fellow Buckeye! And... in addition to that... I checked you out, federal agent remember? I've never used Craig's list to sell stuff before, just wanted to make sure I wasn't inviting an ax murderer in, you know?" Tony smiled a little sheepishly.

"Oh I get it, believe me. I was kind of glad these guys were free to come with me, same reason Bud!" Jacob said with relief.

Julio, standing near the open doorway to the bedroom, said, "Dude, I don't mean to be weird or anything, but are you maybe thinking about selling your bedroom stuff? Cause I'm moving into Jacob's extra room at the end of the month from a furnished place, was going to need to buy furniture anyway."

"I'd be thrilled to sell all of it, everything except the mattress - gotta keep that. But the box springs, all the furniture? Yours if you've got the money. Just to warn you, might be on the expensive side. I usually buy quality, never mind the cost," he said with a smile thinking these guys were a little young to have so much disposable income. The smile turned to a slight grimace as he realized he used to buy quality, now he actually needed to mind the cost very much.

"Normally I'd cut you guys a good deal, but I really need the cash right now; already had to charge some monthly bills to my credit card and that drives me nuts - need to pay that off pronto. Have to get what I can back in the bank, you know?"

Julio nodded, "Sure man, totally understand. I was saving up even before I got a new job cooking for a 5 star restaurant though. Big wigs in D.C. pay well for good chefs, so I'm golden... and this would be perfect for me. Think what you want for it, ok?"

"Yeah, while you guys are loading up I'll check online and give you my asking price."

Twenty minutes later Tony sat with his laptop at the kitchen table finishing yet another cup of coffee while researching a fair price and weighing the fact he had a willing buyer on hand. He started to overhear some whispers from the men swaddling the large TV in bubble wrap for transport; _"Just ask already! What could it hurt?" "We'd like your old furniture Lloyd, especially if it's free - just go ahead and ask. You know Annie likes this style." "But she'd flip if I decided without her..."_

Not looking over, Tony raised his voice, "Guys, I have stupendous hearing. By all means Lloyd, bow to the peer pressure and just ask whatever it is, the suspense is killing me."

"Yeah, ah, was just wondering if you might consider selling your living room furniture too? My wife and I have been shopping for something nice, and she likes this leather and dark wood style. I've got a major problem paying new furniture prices, but if you're selling used, well, this stuff looks great. It'd be perfect, except you'd be left with almost nothing in your apartment. I'm starting to feel like we're robbing you blind here."

"No, that... that feels entirely different. I'm perfectly agreeable to selling almost anything you guys want to pay for. Can't tell you how much I'd rather have a cushion in my bank account than under my butt in the living room." After the men laughed, Tony offered, "You want to send some pics through your phone to your wife first?"

"Oh thank god, yes, I have to do that. She's picky beyond belief sometimes. Thanks man, I'll work on that while these two finish up moving the flat screen down to the truck."

"I told you bro, this is perfect. We've even got the truck for two days, so Annie can sleep on it. You know she'll have to sleep on it first." Jacob elbowed his brother and a mild shove match ensued.

Julio turned to Tony, who had stood up to hand him an itemized sheet with a total price written at the bottom. It included a clear inventory list of all bedroom furniture, dresser, lamps, etc. with prices by each. Smiling as he considered the total, Julio nodded his head and said, "I can do this. It's like paying for an interior decorator at the same time; you're going to save me from using Lloyd's ugly old lamps even. You got a deal man."

As they shook on it, Julio worried a little about this man they didn't even know an hour ago. Despite radiating 'friendly, solid, good guy' vibes, he also seemed very closed off and his eyes seemed sad and cold. Still, this was D.C., and 'federal agent' might translate to 'super secret spy guy', so who knows what this man really did for a living. But, no matter what, he was gonna be a super secret spy guy with no freaking furniture soon. "Hey man, you told Jacob you're not moving, so… some dirtbag really screw you over so bad you got to sell everything?"

Plunged deep in thought, Tony whispered to himself wonderingly, "_Dirtbag_..." From easy amiability, Tony seemed to freeze up, his gaze lost in the pattern of the Oriental rug beneath their feet. _Is he really one of them? I've arrested God knows how many dirtbags, killed so many, usually with my gun, rarely with a knife… never with my bare hands… No, don't go there…_

DiNozzo's frozen silence continued well beyond a comfortable conversational lull, and the three friends looked at each other in concern. "Dude, you ok?" Julio asked as he lightly touched the agent's arm.

Tony's sudden inhale, smile, and exuberant response was like a light being switched on, "Very much so, beyond awesome, and the TV unit alone already helped me pay the rent this month. Now with your and possibly Lloyd's contributions, I'm getting better every day!"

Julio, a little uncertain and feeling bad for apparently upsetting their newfound friend said, "Hey, how about I'll order some pizza dinner for us all and we can figure out logistics? If Annie likes the snaps, she might still want to see everything in person. If you want, maybe she could bring over some of Jacob's empty moving boxes for you to put your clothes and whatnot in temporarily?"

Tony laid an arm sideways across Julio's shoulders and shook him briefly, "Man, you had me at pizza. Sounds great. I'll get to work on prices for this furniture in case she's interested."

Down at the truck, the three men rested a moment, catching their breath after loading the entertainment unit. Julio turned to Lloyd, a registered marriage counselor, and asked, "I know you hate it when we ask you psychiatrist stuff man, but do you think Tony's ok?"

"Argh, this is why I hate it when you ask me this stuff!" he said, rolling his eyes and laughing. "In the extensive 40-odd minutes I've known him, I can say definitively - almost nothing! Of course he's ok to a point, he's fully functional and appears to be dealing with whatever happened to him rationally. Yes, the phase out was a little odd behavior, _could_ have been a dissociative episode, but it also _could_ have been the guy's just exhausted, or _could_ have been a focusing method that's actually helpful in his line of work."

Lloyd shrugged his shoulders as he pulled out his phone, "Can't say for sure Julio. Oh, but I can say thank God she liked the pictures! This could save me thousands. Let's go figure out if she can come over tonight or if he'd rather do it tomorrow. Guy does look beat, might like an early night."

* * *

Friday Morning

After a night spent emptying drawers and organizing his belongings into boxes, Tony had short rations for sleep. Still, he at least felt a little more like himself in the morning. Finding old pop tarts in the back of a cabinet oddly put him in a great mood. "Two years out of date? Who cares!" as he munched happily. It was a good omen for the rest of the day, which was remarkably busy. First he helped the guys move all the bedroom furniture, riding with them to help unload too… since he felt guilty that his elevator had chosen to break down again overnight. Then they came back and moved all the living room furniture, even down to the Oriental rug. Lloyd's wife, the oft-mentioned Annie, had liked what she'd seen the night before, and showed back up at Tony's apartment just in time to help the second delivery - the extra set of hands was welcome by then.

On returning to his echoing apt, he called Gloria to ask if she could come over to clean on a special day. Maybe that would make it look less… vacant. Two luxuries he wasn't willing to give up; his beloved mattress, and the friendly retiree who lived on the 4th floor that cleaned for him. He'd have to include a little bonus in her pay, since her work had made for an easier sell. _She's going to be surprised when she sees why I said it'll take her half the time now! _

Before he even pocketed the phone, he answered a call from Ziva. She asked him to come over that night and teach her how to make pasta from scratch. "I have all the materials for linguini Tony, and extra meat sauce from the last time I cooked lasagna in my freezer. We could have dinner after 'class', yes?"

Tony couldn't fail to notice this was a clever attempt to feed and/or distract him. His hackled rose slightly since he was pretty sure she knew how to make pasta from scratch. Shoot, they both probably bought boxed pasta normally, not a huge difference in taste for all the time that from-scratch needed. And honestly, today was such a busy day that he was already well distracted from… things he wasn't thinking about.

Still, he appreciated her subterfuge; made it easier to smooth down his hackles. He turned her down fondly, "Can we do it some other time Zi? It sounds great, but I've got some stuff to get done tonight. Thanks anyway." With money in the bank again finally, he might even get to the grocery store tonight.

"I will hold you to this Tony, and you may have to bring over Citizen Kane again. I still do not understand the Rosebud thing. Good afternoon Tony."

He shook his head with a small smile, and headed to his closet. Winnowing down his wardrobe to only seven suits was painful, but he managed it, inspired by Billie Holiday playing loudly from his computer in the kitchen. _And you need to cut down on the dry cleaning bills anyway, remember?_ He gathered the eight suits and dozen ties he intended to sell, wondering how he ended up with so many extra. So many quality gorgeous _gorgeous_ suits that just looked so good on him and made him feel so… _well, guess that answers that question._ He smiled as he pocketed the three large checks to go deposit in his new bank account. Turning off the computer as he headed out the door he saluted Billie yet again. '_God Bless the child that's got his own' indeed._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews & PMs guys! Forgive me if I haven't replied just yet, really wanted to get this chapter out to balance out the last. Thanks heaps!_

* * *

Chapter Five

Sat Morning

"Boss? We got a case?" Tony blinked to awareness while holding the phone, realizing he was sitting cross-legged on his mattress already, and had been for hours if the stiffness in his back and legs was anything to go by. _Damn it, not again. Woke up from that dream at 03:00._

Remembrance of the crime scene nightmare starring his father as the pale corpse and the whole team staring at the blood on Tony's hands was mercifully cut short by Gibbs' voice in his ear. "Nope, got some wood I need your help with. You free in about 30?"

Cylinders not quite firing yet, "Um, Boss, you probably don't mean… or what that sounds… I mean, I haven't had my coffee yet, what exactly am I helping you with?"

"DiNozzo, do you feel a pain on the back of your head right now?"

Tony laughed, "Yeah Boss."

"That was my hand. I'll be over in 30, I'll bring you coffee."

"Thanks Boss."

* * *

Gibbs let himself in, just as Tony stepped dressed but barefoot out of bathroom. There was a moment of silence as Tony finished towel drying his hair, and Gibbs sipped his coffee. The older man finished looking around and said deadpan, "Like what you've done with the place."

Tony, hypersensitive to the echoes in the mostly empty apartment, felt the urge to ramble overcome him… as it often did. "Reminds me of your place actually, lots of wooden floor showing. The whole floor really holds the room together - ha! Remember, from _The Big Lebowski_? Gloria did a great job making it shine, something you hardly notice with lots of furniture in the way. One of the reasons I chose the apartment in the first place. Apparently she and Abby hit it off yesterday while I was out, despite the fact Abby was a little freaked out by…" he waved vaguely, "I called and straightened it out last night. She dropped jumbo muffins off, want one?" The urge finally ended as he smelled what was in Gibbs' hands.

"Nah, had one of those breakfast burritos you like. Some more in here if you want." he said, setting the bag and cup of sweet coffee down on the kitchen table.

Tony sat down at the table and, holding both burrito and muffin in his hands, said, "Ahh, best of both worlds. Breakfast with chocolate dessert. Thanks Boss. Your kind of coffee is in the pot, knew you'd be ready for a refill by the time you got here."

Gibbs reflected Tony didn't have to have any furniture to be a damned good host. He refilled his travel cup and indicated the lack of furniture, "How'd you sell it all so fast?"

Very experienced at talking with his mouth full, Tony said, "Same three guys - nice guys, everybody needed something different. Three fat checks deposited, plus we got paid this week. I'm rollin' Boss." He smirked, "Don't have to tell you of all people how good it feels to have money in the bank again."

Gibbs frowned as he stared at the bare bedroom with a neatly made-up mattress on the floor, casual clothes in and on top of boxes along the wall, an alarm clock and old desk lamp on the floor by the bed. "You gonna live here like this?"

Still with a full mouth, Tony's eyebrows rose, "Boss, I admit it's an adjustment, but compared to when I first went to college this is still the high life. My scholarship paid for almost everything back then, but I had some transition issues for a while. You can't just keep wearing a military academy uniform after you graduate, and besides I was still a growing boy, you know? All my clothes were too small in no time. And I had zero spending cash back then too. Any part-time jobs on or around campus were already taken, and besides," he shook his head, "work was strongly _discouraged_ for those of us on athletic scholarships."

Tony peeled the paper off his giant chocolate muffin. "Any free time we had was supposed to be running drills, working out, building endurance and improving skills. Anyway, this one coach finally took the time to get me a work-study job in the Athletic Dept. and things started getting better. Was probably embarrassing being seen with a kid showing three inches of ratty tube socks from too-short trousers," he snickered as he finished the last of his desert-muffin.

"The point is," pointing his finger after licking them all thoroughly, "compared to back then, this is no problem."

Gibbs watched as Tony threw away his trash and washed his hands. "Sleeping down on the floor like that mess up your back? Still got shadows under your eyes and you're moving stiff."

"No, no - my mattress is the kind you don't even need box springs with really, can just lay it on a platform of wood. Quality Boss - individual taper-top spring coils…" he got a bit dreamy eyed, "it's a good bed, even if it's three feet shorter now."

Sipping from his coffee mug, Gibbs leveled a stare at Tony, not needing to point out he didn't answer the real question.

Tony attempted to give an answer that _could_ be true, "Well, I helped the guys move most of the stuff because the elevator went out again. Might have done it." His small smile was sincere in appearance, but really just more hopeful that Gibbs would accept that explanation.

Yeah, it wasn't working.

"Tony."

Amazing how much Gibbs said with one word, Tony thought. _Might as well, he'll get me to tell him eventually anyway._

"Sat in one position for too long. This morning. Lost track of time."

Gibbs always knew when his Second got choppy like this it was because of something important, something Tony was having to force out past the guardian of his many masks. "That been happening a lot?"

"I wouldn't say a lot. Just… several times. Trying real hard to stay on point, stay focused, have to not think about a … a thing. Gets… away from me sometimes… apparently." Tony swallowed.

"Tell me the thing. Was it the phone call from your Dad?" Gibbs sat at the kitchen table, and with his foot pushed a chair out for Tony.

Tony sat and wished he hadn't just eaten so much. "Heh, yeah… you can't fire a person just for what they're thinking, right?" He waved his hand like swatting at a mosquito, "The call was just more of the same. Nothing new, Bastard was..." He swallowed again and felt a little green. Seeing a flash from his dream of his blood covered hands, he could feel some part of him reaching for the oblivion of 'just stop'...

Gibbs reached over and got Tony's attention with a finger to his wrist, "Hey. Here. Just the words. Say the words."

Held by Gibbs's eyes and one index finger, Tony found it much easier to derail the emotional response, and give his Boss exactly what he wanted. "Worried I'm going to kill my Dad. With my bare hands. Become a murderer. Really worried… about that. Just have to stop, then."

"Hmm," Gibbs let Tony breathe and calm down for a few minutes. He was saddened his friend was going through this, but not too surprised. Either at Tony's desire to hurt his father back, or at his complete moral inability to accept it. Most people didn't see the deep anger in the younger man, well leashed by many layers of goofiness and distractions. This kind of provocation, from a man that probably put most of that deep anger there in the first place… no, not a surprise it would boil out this way. But apparently a surprise to Tony. Gibbs was glad it was finally out. And strangely impressed that, despite the shut-down episodes being a dysfunction, apparently the many layers of Tony's psyche would rather close down than let him make a terrible mistake.

He briefly squeezed Tony's wrist before leaning back. Still looking him in the eye, he nodded slightly, and said, "Ok." Two letters, full of expression.

Tony closed his eyes while sucking in a deep breath, and rubbed his face with both hands. It literally felt like he'd just surfaced from under heavy water. _He's ok with what I'm worried about. Ok with me worrying. And saying it'll be ok. _Looking gratefully across the table at the man supporting him so much… and apparently effortlessly. "Thanks Boss." Tony's two words expressed almost as much back.

Not feeling so green now, or so twisted inside, Tony took another refreshing deep breath, "Except for that, I'm doing a lot better. I'm feeling a lot better, I'm moving on, taking care of business, really positive stuff. Feel like I'm doing well, you know?"

Gibbs smiled fondly, "Yeah, I know." He also had a feeling Tony would do even better now that he'd gotten that weight off his chest.

And, deciding the therapy session was over… and that his butt was starting to hurt sitting on the uncomfortable kitchen chair, "Let's go pick up my order of wood. Mostly need your help unloading it at the house. Also want you back over tonight to help me with something."

Smiling just as fondly, with a large dose of relief, Tony said, "On it Boss."

* * *

Tony DiNozzo smiled as he drove with the windows down, enjoying the crisp early evening air and admiring the sunset. As he pulled onto Gibbs' street, he could see three of his teammates' cars in the driveway and street outside the house.

Wary, he pulled over and called Gibbs, "Ah Boss, looking a bit crowded in there, what's going on?"

"Having a… campfire in the basement. Nothing you need to be a part of. Come on in."

"Not that I ever get freaked out Boss, ever, you know me. But I'm just a little freaked at the moment. Not really in the mood for… maybe I should just come at another time?"

"Get your ass in here DiNozzo, park behind my car. Now there's two things I need you to do."

As Tony walked in the front door, his trepidation was blown aside as he recognized the shape set on an end table to the right of the fireplace. Not seeing anyone other than Gibbs, he walked towards the object, as though the one true Grail had materialized in Gibbs' living room.

"My God. Is that…?" he could barely say the words.

"Yeah, bought it from a guy I know in the Marine Reserves. In addition to hooking that and the DVD player up, I want you to sign a power of attorney so I can do some things for you." He plucked a dazed Tony's phone from his belt, intending McGee to make sure no more unwanted calls were received on it. Instead, they would go straight to Gibbs' voice mail.

Still flummoxed at the idea of a _working widescreen color TV_ in Gibbs' house, in the _living room_, Tony couldn't make sense of the rest of the words. "Wait, say what?"

"You trust me to have your six out of work too, right? Do right by you the way you would want?"

Instantly, "Of course." Looking his big brother/better father in the eyes, thinking of all the trust issues, complications and resolutions they'd already hurdled, he said with a smile, "We've come along way over the years haven't we Boss? Of course I do."

"You trust me to do the best I can for you, especially about things you can't think about right now if you're going to keep moving forward? Things I can't help but think extensively about?"

A long silence. Tony thought this was how you're supposed to be able to trust a parent, wishing to god his Dad had been worthy of the title. And how glad he was Gibbs apparently didn't think less of him for needing to face only forward on this issue. "Yeah Gibbs, I do."

As Tony signed the paperwork Gibbs said, "This is just temporary. It'll end up in your safety deposit box after I arrange some things."

Tony smiled, a bit misty eyed, "Aren't I supposed to get a ring now Boss? Jump a broom or something?"

Gibbs laughed, not untouched by the emotional moment himself, "Oh my boot'll make you jump real far DiNozzo. Now get a beer and get in there and make the damn thing work. Tim made a bet with Abby and Ziva you'd need help within 30 minutes. There's stew and biscuits for dinner later."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Sunday

Tony was glad to finish up and place on Gibbs' desk the _U.S.S. Bush_ reports so he could finally run some follow up checks on Petty Officer Anderson's vacationing/moved neighbor, Mr. Eddie Callum. He was also glad to take a little more ibuprofen. Gibbs had kept him up late after the movie, which he hadn't needed McGee's help with after all thank you very much, drinking more beer and moving on to shots of bourbon after everyone else had left. They hadn't mentioned whatever their campfire plans were, and Tony hated to admit he was grateful for that. It was just a nice night with his 'family' despite the deeply surreal elements; watching _The Big Lebowski_ in Gibbs' living room, Gibbs having _asked_ Abby to bring it (curious after Tony's reference that morning), and finding Gibbs' ugly couch more comfortable than usual… at least as compared to Tony's lack of even an ugly couch.

Tony thought he remembered Gibbs drawing out the plans to some kind of California King sized drawer-sided platform bed frame, but by then things were a bit fuzzy. _Next time I should just ask him if he wants me to stay overnight in the guest bedroom instead of us tying one on… save us both a headache in the morning. Assuming Gibbs has a headache? Didn't look like it this morning over pancakes. Hmm, he wasn't drinking nearly as much as me. Sneaky bastard._

He heard the elevator ding and looked up, curious who was joining him on the empty MCRT floor… and hoping they stayed quiet.

* * *

Tim, Ziva and Gibbs had agreed to meet at work about an hour after Tony's arrival. Tim and Ziva didn't have as much paperwork to catch up on, but thought DiNozzo would appreciate a decent lunch being brought in. Something better than the "four kinds of breakfast cereal" he'd bought the night before, as he'd proudly said of his shopping expedition. Tony had told them how he was feeling more confident financially after his recent sales and paycheck, but still had a strict budget to follow for six months before he'd start splurging on meals out like he used to. And even then he'd keep it to a minimum for at least five years, to re-amass his hypothetical retirement fund. He'd shaken his head with a grimace at Tim last night, "Just because I don't think it'll happen doesn't mean I shouldn't budget for it, just like you said Tim. When you're right, you're right McPlanner."

Tim had tried to play down the pride he felt at those words. Convincing Tony to do something he didn't see the need for was usually a pointless undertaking… unless Gibbs ordered him to of course.

Ziva had picked McGee up, having rolled her eyes when promising to use her "snail-driving" skills the others were so proud of her for developing. Tim, pleasantly un-nauseated, caught up on some searches he'd put into place last night as they pulled into the NCIS parking lot.

They'd found quite a few important and well-known investors involved in the Excelsior Palace Resort and Casino, which had initially attempted to use live-online casino gambling in order to get around Saudi Arabia's strict prohibition against gambling. Considering Prince Omar ibn Alwaar himself was against any gambling connection it was no surprise the development had quickly switched to a plan B: Excelsior Palace Resort and Spa.

The agents had found several investors with dubious and shady financial practices that could be exploited, but Gibbs had eventually ruled that out. They weren't going to stoop to blackmail on one shady character to get at another. Besides, the more they researched the Prince beyond what they knew from his brief visit to retrieve his sons from D.C. a couple of years ago, the more he looked like a better angle. Not only a stern and imposing man, but also highly ethical in his own way, having ended several business deals upon discovery of illegal practices. Also potentially useful, his investment group did indeed hold the sponsorship for Mr. DiNozzo's business visa.

McGee continued checking the status of all elements on his PDA as he and Ziva approached security. He wanted to finish up so Tony didn't snoop as usual and accidentally see something the SFA was a bit sensitive on, according to Gibbs. Ziva opened her bag of gyros she had brought for the team's lunch and handed out extras to two of the security officers always on duty on Sundays. She laughed as she instructed them not to eat the third officer's lunch before he got back to his duty station.

Tim froze as he was returned his gun and electronic devices by the officers, wondering if the scanner had damaged the device or search settings. Double-checking, he stared wide-eyed at Ziva as he frantically dialed Gibbs. "Answer Boss, answer…"

Gibbs, having already arrived, paused to answer his phone while heading up the stairs to the bullpen, "Yeah, Gibbs."

"Boss! You know how you had me tracking Mr. DiNozzo's movements via flights and cellphone? Well nothing popped up on flights, but customs pinged his name just now, and his cellphone has come back on - in D.C. - it's inside NCIS Boss!"

"Shit." Gibbs hung up as he double-timed it up the last flight of stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Anthony DiNozzo, "the real Tony DiNozzo", was glad to be back in the states even if it was only temporary. Both the unmerciful heat in Saudi Arabia and the lack of liquor put a serious crimp in his style. While awaiting the hotel payout he was back in the U.S. courtesy of Prince Omar ibn Alwaar, staying at the Adams overnight until "Al's" private jet would fly him on to St. Bart's in the morning.

He was deeply pleased with himself these days, finally back in the money while waiting on more to arrive in short order. Absolutely ideal he thought, as he fixed his gold cuffs and smiled to the man beside him in the elevator. Having almost a million - leftover capital not actually needed for the investment - in his personal account now felt finally right. It had been a long time since things were how they should be. _This damned economy, disastrous for men like me._

And, despite how abusive Junior had become in their last conversation, he had an envelope with a check in it for Tony to tide him over… since his son was being so ridiculous about the whole thing. _Never let it be said, I am not looking out for my son, no matter how difficult he makes it._

His charming smile turned to a smirk. _Just let him get his own rugrat someday, he'll change his tune when he sees what a chore they can be._

He was still a little angry this stop in D.C., purely to give Junior a check, was even necessary. He'd been unable to deposit straight into Junior's bank account while still in Riyadh - apparently the account number had changed. _Such a little drama king, like mother like son. Although he could have picked it up from that third Nanny, you'd think both Elizabeth and I were monsters to the boy the way she overreacted._

Already having wasted his time trying to find Junior at his apartment, NCIS was the next logical place the boy would be. Luckily, his name was still on the approved visitor list, so the Officer at his side could escort him upstairs. _See, that proves Junior wants me to stop in if I'm around._

The elevator doors opened, and Security Officer Mallick's stomach growled as he stepped out with Agent DiNozzo's father. Upon seeing the Agent stand up and say "Dad", Mallick wished both gentlemen a good day.

* * *

The elevator had closed in front of Officer Mallick before Tony shook himself and walked over to his smiling Father. This couldn't be happening. He felt himself pale, too many scenes from his overly vivid imagination popping to the forefront. His Dad had to get out of here. _But I'm almost afraid what might happen if I get in arm's reach of him. God, why did he have to come when the team wasn't here? They would keep me from..._

"Junior! Thought I'd find you here when you weren't at the apartment. You know, you ought to think about getting a condo someday, your building needs a major renovation."

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you insane? After what you did to me?" Tony felt the paleness replaced by a flush as his volume started to increase.

"Good God boy, not more of this. I thought you'd have cooled down by now."

"You committed a crime - against me Dad! You used what you knew about me wishing we were… you played me like a damn fiddle. And I _had_ fucking cooled down until you had the _gall _to call me like nothing had happened… and to walk in here! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Disregarding most of what was said, but furious at being spoken to this way by his ungrateful offspring, the older man's shade of red almost matched Tony's. "I _thought_ I was having to hand-deliver - very much out of my way I might add - a rather large check to you. A few thousand to tide you over, now I wish I hadn't bothered!"

DiNozzo pulled out the envelope with the check in it and threw it to the floor at Tony's feet. "Contact me when you can be civil Junior." He turned and began walking back to the elevator.

Tony was frozen for a mere second, feeling like trash had been thrown at him instead of any large check. Scooping up the envelope, he tore after his father, switching to Italian just like his parents always had when the real cursing at each other had begun. "You fucking asshole! I don't want to contact you! I don't want you to contact me!" He threw the envelope at his father's chest. "I don't want your goddamn check! I want you to stay the _fuck_ out of my life!"

How _dare_ the boy! _After all I've done for him..._ "You do _not_ speak to your Father that way boy!" as Senior backhanded him… hard.

Tony reached up and wiped at the blood falling from his mouth where the diamond-encrusted ring on his father's hand had ripped open his lip.

There was no more "just stop", there was no more freezing up. His years of hand-to-hand reflexes and his fury merged instantly in a way it never had before. Tony had already grabbed his father and thrown him hard back against the wall by the elevator before registering the feel and sound of his palm's heel breaking his father's nose.

At the same moment, Gibbs ripped open the stairway door and raced over, seeing murderous fury in his second's eyes. Immediately, he put his body arms out between the two men, knowing Tony would never strike him, and Senior at his back was incapacitated for the moment. Tony let himself be forced back a few steps, while continuing to shout over Gibbs' shoulder the whole time - the blood on his father's face not diminishing his fury at all. "You goddamn fucking bastard! Stay the fuck out of my life!"

As he heard the elevator doors open, Gibbs knew some combatants went all-out when they felt they were about to be stopped. He latched onto Tony in a bear hug and shoved him away from the older man as much as leverage would allow. His second had never seemed as large or as strong as he did right now.

Tim & Ziva had heard the shouting before the doors had opened. They dashed out of elevator, saw blood on both DiNozzos, and immediately put themselves between Tony and his father.

"Get his back Tim." Gibbs barked, as he spun them both around so Tony was not looking at his father anymore. Tim, worried Senior might stupidly try for Tony despite Ziva standing guard in a ready pose, leaned his back against Tony's, pushing backwards firmly towards the bullpen. The three men staggered stiffly away, Tony straining even more when "You ungrateful whelp, you broke my nose!" was heard over the cubicle partition.

"Over now Tony. It's over." Tony wasn't hearing him yet, he was still straining, head still swiveled towards the elevator. Tim was similarly saying, "Easy Tony, take it easy," as he shifted around to double the bear hug from behind. Tim suddenly remembered one of Abby's many descriptions of Tony as solid rock on the inside; right now he felt like a barely-mobile rock on the outside.

Gibbs caught Tim's eyes, indicating to hold up in front of Gibbs' desk where they had managed to maneuver Tony. Gibbs grabbed Tony's head, palms on jaw, thumbs on cheekbones, forcing him to pay attention. "DiNozzo! With me!"

A harsh, still distracted "Boss." replied, but at least he was halfway there Gibbs thought. Equally fierce eyes stared at each other. Gibbs spoke clearly, straight to his second's heart and mind, "You're mine Tony, you got that?"

Automatic, thorough nod answered, and Tony said quietly but with intensity, "Yours Boss. Sure as _hell_ not his." Gibbs and Tim were both relieved as they felt Tony shudder in capitulation.

Gibbs knew Tony's adrenalin reaction, among other fallout, would set in soon, and he wanted to keep him moving till then. He made sure McGee understood these were his orders too, "You go straight to the East bathroom, get cleaned up. You then go straight to Conference Room One and wait for me there. You do not ditch McGee at any point. You got me?"

"On it Boss." Somewhere close to normal, getting back on track it sounded to Gibbs.

Tony was already starting to feel a little weak-kneed, and threw one arm over Tim's shoulders, not minding at all that Tim had shifted to one arm around his back. They walked off, ignoring all sounds behind them.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Walking swiftly back over to Ziva and the elder, bloodier, DiNozzo, Gibbs stopped and cocked his head.

Senior, holding a handkerchief to his nose, snapped, "What are _you_ starring at Special Agent _Gibbs_?" He said the name like a curse.

Gibbs smirked, "Just realized I don't need to hit you, Tony handled that pretty well."

Outraged, Senior pointed in the direction his son had walked off, "That ungrateful little bastard…"

"Could have cleaned your clock before you even knew what hit you. We don't just use guns to stop the bad guys, and Tony's been doing this for seventeen years, you _dumbass_." Gibbs looked the disheveled man up and down, finding it hard to believe the idiocy and arrogance that had brought this man here today.

He stepped closer, as Ziva slid to the side while smiling wickedly, "Now here's what you're going to do. Go get cleaned up in this bathroom. Then get the hell out of NCIS and off the Navy yard, and don't ever come back."

"Like I'd bother to! And what if I want to press charges? He assaulted me!"

"I heard the end of the argument, sounded like you struck first." Gibbs pointed up over his shoulder, "And I'm sure the security footage will confirm that."

"That was nothing but a minor correction from a parent to a child - having had a girl you wouldn't understand."

Gibbs had had more than enough. He abruptly crowded the other man back up against the wall. "No, that was assault on a Federal Agent. _My agent_." He said a great deal more than just _agent_ with that word. He forced the other man to drop his eyes; the elder DiNozzo apparently realized getting to walk out of the building might be his best option.

"It addition to getting the hell out of here, you no longer contact my agent again. Period. There's a restraining order going through now to enforce that. Any further communication is through his lawyer or me, his power of attorney, and…" he leaned right by Senior's ear, " a better father than you could ever, ever be."

"Ziva, escort this man to the wash room, then make sure security helps him leave the yard. I'll be calling them up here now, loudly in Mallick's case. Meet us in One after." He scooped up the envelope on the floor on his way back to his desk.

"Of course Gibbs. This way Mr. DiNozzo. I will make sure your nose is set _correctly_." She assisted Senior with a firm grip on his elbow pressure point.

Ziva cut him off as he started to open his mouth, "If you speak, _at all_, you will not leave the washroom alive. Do you understand me?" Her eyes dared him to speak now. He stared at her wide-eyed; this cute little slip of a woman he'd enjoyed flirting with... was sending chills up his spine. He nodded mutely.

* * *

Tony paced rhythmically in the long conference room, reminding McGee of a large cat in a small cage. After vomiting in the bathroom, Tony had washed up thoroughly and repeatedly, even going so far as to rinse his mouth with soapy water. He hadn't looked at his reflection once - something Tim didn't think was possible. He then asked McGee to report what he had seen from his own perspective. Tim finally felt free to blot the tear on Tony's face and lip as he gave his sit rep; luckily the bleeding had stopped on it's own. Tony had listened and then finally looked up to the mirror from where he was braced on the countertop. After a long stare at himself, Tony had shaken his head with a wince and deep sigh, and not another word had been spoken on the way to the conference room.

Tim kept quiet for now, feeling a little out of his depths, and pretty sure 'At least you didn't actually kill him' wouldn't go over too well. He was pretty sure this could only be untangled by Gibbs and was eager for the senior agent to arrive. Tim couldn't really tell if Tony was working himself up or calming down at the moment… just wished he'd take a seat already. In bizarre good news, McGee now felt he'd just done the work of every cop that had ever walked a beat, in breaking up an ugly domestic disturbance that could have turned out much worse. Looking forward to pointing this out to Tony, he wisely decided that was another observation that could wait.

He wasn't nearly as bothered by what had almost happened as Tony obviously was. It was a known quantity, Tony himself had put a safeguard in place to deal with it, and the safeguard worked. By a close, close margin, sure, but Tim was no stranger to half seconds making all the difference sometimes.

Breaking the silence, and pausing to the side of McGee, Tony said, "Just in case Tim, thank you."

"Sure Tony, but just in case of what?"

"Just in case I get fired. Or suspended. Or transferred to a submarine off the coast of Alaska or something. I didn't leave Gibbs a lot of options."

Gibbs naturally walked in at that moment. Sitting at the head of the table, he indicated Tony should sit at his right hand, Tim staying on his left. He might have preferred having this conversation with Tony alone, but the situation had blossomed into a team event, and might be a useful 'teaching moment' for his other two agents.

"Everything's handled DiNozzo. Relax."

Elbows on the table, hands clasped, Tony looked dumbfounded at Gibbs. "Boss? You can't... I'm… we…" He shook his head and took a breath before trying again, "LEO's of all people can't…" He ran his hands thru still-drying hair as Ziva quietly came in and sat next to the partner than needed her support.

"If you had been five seconds later Boss… I'd be sitting here with…" he held up his hands, wrists together.

"Maybe. But it didn't come to that and I'm damn glad of it. You deserved to tell the bastard off, and he deserved his broken nose. You put it behind you, and you move on."

"But Boss, I didn't even feel myself… I don't remember making a conscious choice to..." Tony sighed, not really wanting to put this into words, but feeling honor-bound to do so. "I mean what if something's… wrong inside, now? I carry weapons for God's sake."

Gibbs stopped him, blue eyes piercing him right to the core, "DiNozzo, you _really_ think you're likely to try and kill the next person that pisses you off? Hunt that dumbass with a broken nose down and finish what you started?"

Tony shook his head softly as an idea suddenly occurred to him, "No... actually that was unbelievably satisfying 'closure' I guess they'd call it." He rubbed his jaw with one hand. "And like you said, that's over. Feels a lot better in that area at the moment. But what if…"

Ziva chimed in, finding the unusual self-doubt in her partner difficult to listen to. "Tony, you are one of the least likely people I know to snap and accidentally murder someone."

Raised eyebrows and a skeptical look answered her, his voice serious, "Even after today?"

"Yes." Holding his eyes, she thought a push back to his comfort zone of levity was in order. "You are vastly more likely to eviscerate and torture those around you with your words. Both intentionally and accidentally. It is something I have always admired about you."

Maybe it was a touch of hysteria, but Tony smiled, he was touched. As he snorted and rubbed the back of his neck, he heard the other two men laugh lightly as well. He pretended not to hear McGee's muttered, "Lord knows that's the truth."

An audible growling noise was heard. Tony and Tim looked down, then at each other across the table. Gibbs said, "Don't think I've ever heard that in stereo before. Let's go get some lunch, then get some work done."

As the other two filed out, Tony hung back with Gibbs, needing something more. But Gibbs apparently needed to get something off his chest too. Shaking his head, he said quietly, "Let you down there Tony. Broke Rule#8. Took it for granted the dumbass would never come back here. Won't happen again."

"Christ Boss, I did the same thing and I should have known better with him. Besides... you saved me, more than made up for it. Might have looked like you saved him, but it was really me you saved. Thank you... so much."

Tony looked at the floor as his eyes started to burn. He spoke so quietly Gibbs had to strain to hear the hoarse words. "I wanted to do it Boss. Burned like fire inside."

Gibbs was almost as quiet as he replied slowly, "I know. You're human son. I've been there too. It's ok."

Tony bit his lip as he blinked rapidly. Taking a shaky breath, he nodded his acceptance.

Gibbs gripped him at the base of his neck, pulling him in for a hard hug. Unsurprising considering Tony's upbringing, his second was never particularly comfortable with physical displays of affection. But given his oddly grateful reaction to headslaps, Gibbs had long ago clued in to how much DiNozzo nonetheless craved it. And right now, seeing the tremors running through Tony's body, Gibbs couldn't have stopped himself.

Releasing Tony when the shaking finally stopped, Gibbs pulled back and shook him lightly. "Come on, let's go eat. Then you can catch us up on what you're following on the Anderson case."

Only the tiniest bit embarrassed by the hug, Tony's eyes actually looked worlds better, more settled Gibbs was glad to see. He took a deep breath and let it out while smiling gently, "Thanks Boss."

Patting DiNozzo's back a couple of times as he ushered him out of the room first, Gibbs flashed back on the look in Tony's eyes across from his father, hand raised for another strike… and sent a thank you to any deity listening.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Once again, thanks so much to everyone reading and/or reviewing. I so very much appreciate your support! Sorry this chapter is a wee one, but the next 2 will be posted directly, probably wrapping up the story on the weekend. Thanks again!_

* * *

Chapter Nine

Monday Morning

Vance closed the DiNozzo IA report that had arrived while his MCRT was on the _U.S.S. Bush_. Shaking his head and sighing, he said "There's just no accounting for family sometimes. Had some lessons on that myself lately."

The quiet huff across his desk sounded like an agreement. Leon Vance was somewhat proud at being able to decipher approximately 70% of Gibb's non-verbal communications these days.

"I wanted to get your opinion on the situation, and what could best facilitate getting Agent DiNozzo back on track after an incident of this magnitude."

Already seeing his senior agent's body language make the minimal but decisive swing into contradictory status, he continued quickly "There are several", he held up his hands, "_temporary_ postings available. I don't know the man well, true, but I do know as an Agent he's at his best when entirely engrossed with work. Am I right?" Old trick that, getting Gibbs to at least _think_ 'yes', even if he'd prefer to never verbally agree with the Director.

Vance continued, "Keep him busy, maybe keep his mind off this situation with his father. Earn some extra money, and having room and board paid might be advantageous too."

Gibbs was irritated, he had the situation under control, and this was the absolutely last time for Tony to be sent somewhere without his… well, his real family's support. _Although… Ziva and I do need a few days off for a quick international… vacation. Maybe some extremely brief assignment, build his confidence back up and keep his mind off what Ziva and I are doing…_

"Who'd you send to the _Bush_ to do close out reports and handoff duties, since Agent Solaf was killed?"

"I sent a TAD to do the close outs, and not having been an Agent Afloat before he's having a great deal of difficulty. This was Solaf's first Agent Afloat assignment and she wasn't quite as tidy with paperwork as I might have wished. Did her job well otherwise though, a definite loss to NCIS. No handoff yet. No Agent Afloat assigned for next tour yet, one of the duties I was thinking of DiNozzo for."

"No. Do not even mention that possibility to DiNozzo. Especially not right now." Gibbs looked Vance in the eye and waited for understanding to glimmer. Vance gave a slight nod. He understood there was no way Gibbs was going to spill Tony's true mental state or difficulties right now, but leader to leader, hell, father to father, they had an understanding.

Gibbs continued thoughtfully, "But I do need to take about three days off shortly. Maybe starting this afternoon unless something hot comes up. DiNozzo's following some good leads on a cold case; a hard to find neighbor may have been involved in Petty Officer Anderson's disappearance two years ago. Neighbor has changed name and disappeared a number of times. No direct tie in yet, just very suspicious. But he could pursue that remotely, especially in conjunction with McGee. DiNozzo could take over on the _Bush_ temporarily, maybe even have an extended handoff to the next Agent, especially if you pick another first timer."

Vance grunted as he nodded, speaking Gibbs' preferred language. Then his head dipped down as his eyebrows arched, "Three days, eh? Pining for the scenic vistas of Saudi Arabia are you? I don't suppose any of your other team members might be putting in for the same three days?"

Gibbs' slight smile accompanied his answer, "David mentioned something about her tan."

"MmmHmm. Jethro, you of course remember this is not an NCIS case and we have no jurisdiction there."

"Of course, Leon. I can just talk. You've seen me in interrogation. I can be very persuasive." And the small smile was back.

Vance was always reminded when Gibbs was like this that you can put a leash on a tiger, but there was a secret to holding onto it. "Definitely take Ziva for your backup. I'll work out the rest, get DiNozzo switched out for TAD and training detail down in Norfolk."

_...Whenever possible, walk in the same direction as the tiger._

A small nod concluded their conversation.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Big thanks again for all my readers & reviewers - you guys are awesome! Last chapter tomorrow._

* * *

Chapter Ten

Down below in the bullpen, the Anderson case was finally heating up. The recently moved neighbor, Eddie Callum, had changed his name a total of five times that Tony could find. Running the database for missing men matching Anderson's description in the five different places 'Callum' had lived during those names came up with nothing significant. But checking on missing women did show a stronger than average trail, near each of those locations and across three states. Even more suspicious, the seven missing women all shared attributes; all were petite blonds, between the ages of 25-35. Still no definite tie-in to the disappearance of Anderson, but plenty enough for a warrant to search the property currently for sale.

Tony filled Gibbs in when he came back downstairs, noting the warrant had just come in.

After meeting Ziva's eyes and seeing a nod, Gibbs said, "You and McGee go check out that house, then you set him up to run whatever comes up from it. Ziva and I are gone for three days starting this afternoon. DiNozzo, you'll be TAD closing out the _Bush_'s Agent Afloat reports, then if Vance has a new A.A. assigned when you get done, give that agent a handoff training run.

Subtly concerned, Tony cocked his head to the side slightly, "Boss? Did a case come in? Why are you two…?"

Gibbs still stood in the center of the bullpen. He met Tony's gaze levelly and shook his head once, "Vacation days. Pollen."

"_Pollen._"

"Pollen."

Tony blinked.

Gibbs didn't. He sipped his coffee, eyes never leaving Tony's incredulous gaze.

The mutual staring continued.

Tim sighed... and internally rolled his eyes. _Not again,_ he thought. _And so begins another lengthy conversation in SA/SFA mental telepathy... Nothing wrong with words you know. Share people... Share with the class. _Glancing beyond Gibbs, he saw agreement in Ziva's eyes; a moment of Junior agent solidarity.

Tim thought he heard a partial snort and maybe saw a barely perceptible nod on Tony's part… or maybe it was indigestion.

"Right. Damn those allergies. Safe travels to you both." He leveled a glance to Ziva that spoke clearly her responsibility to protect their Senior Agent. She nodded back.

_Great, she's doing it too._ Tim did roll his eyes this time.

Tony took a breath and plunged into his deep end of worry. "So, how T is my TAD?"

Gibbs shook his head briefly. "As long as it takes you to closeout, don't imagine it'll take you longer than three-four days. You?

"Depends on the mess, sounds about right. If anything develops with Anderson?"

"You two can handle it, not that far of a drive back up from Norfolk. McGee, pull Dorneget to collect evidence if you get warrants for other houses. DiNozzo, go ahead and take what you have on this 'Callum' to Ducky so he can get started on a psych workup."

After DiNozzo gathered some files, Gibbs joined him in the elevator. Tony didn't say anything, but had that mournful hound expression of anxiety.

DiNozzo didn't last three seconds in the elevator before, "Did he find out about yesterday?"

Gibbs was at least glad to hear the level tone in Tony's voice. _Getting him to stay over again last night for steak and the ball game was a good idea. The seven solid hours of sleep may have been the first he's gotten in two weeks._

"He didn't mention it, so either he doesn't know, or didn't feel it rated conversation." Gibbs stopped the elevator. "This is _not_ punishment. You're qualified a hell of a lot better than the TAD spinning his wheels there now. Vance knows you can do it, I know you can do it." Gibbs shrugged and spoke simply, "Needs to get done. And… it's… _temporary_. You got that DiNozzo?"

Gibbs started the elevator again as he saw the confidence return to his second's eyes, "Got it Boss."

* * *

Out at the Callum house, Tony drew curious looks from the real estate agent while squatting over the floor in the darkened living room.

"Oooo! Can you say bodily fluids Timmy?" Tony said as the luminol showed a large purple highlight on the floor.

Deep, deep inside, Tim was secretly impressed Tony's original hunch was paying off. "I can, I just choose not too. I'll go get the rest of the gear." Tim replied, grinning as he left the house. _Well, take that team Balboa, team Gibbs still the best!_

The real estate agent muttered as she walked out, "And I had a definite nibble from a family of three."

Less than an hour later, they were almost done processing the scene when Tim decided to interrupt Tony's current monologue about the history of baseball game color broadcasts with a question. "Tony, you ok with Gibbs and Ziva doing… what they're doing?"

Tim was glad the silence wasn't all that long; one of the easier mood-o-meters of the team's SFA.

"Yeah, I guess. It's not that I'm not grateful. I just… Can't you guys just… leave it be, especially now? I didn't want anyone else to get messed up from this. Don't want you to get pulled into my… that man's games. It doesn't have to affect you other than putting up with me being… weird for a bit. And you're all really good at that by now - lots of practice there."

Shaking his head, Tim was sometimes amazed and appalled by Tony's complete lack of ability to factor himself into the mix when making the connections he was usually so good at. "Imagine if it was one of us this had happened to Tony? I got my ID stolen and you went and found the kid responsible for me, right? Well, helping each other in the team isn't just trickle-down. Imagine if this was happening to Gibbs of all people and he didn't want any help with it. You _know_ you'd do something, either to help him or to try and fix it. You'd have to do something, right?"

Tony thought for a moment. Tim was then caught by the level green-eyed gaze, saw a slight smile and tiny head bob directed at him, and amazingly, the SFA/Junior Agent mental telepathy kicked in. It was obviously Tony saying: _Tim, you are both wise and kind, and, as you often are, right in this instance. Thank you my brother._

...or maybe it was indigestion.

* * *

Two days later, Abby and Tim urgently contacted Tony on board the _U.S.S George H.W. Bush_ via Skype.

Tony answered while bookended by large stacks of folders and boxes. "Tell me you've got something good from the outside world guys. Sitting in here all day is so not good for my tan. I'm cutting cords through this mess though, just about got it squared away."

Abby was excited to see Tony again, and excited in general, "Tonyyy! We got the goods Tony-boy. I told you we've gotten even more trace evidence from the other houses; it all ties together with several of the missing women. We even got blood from Anderson in the next house multiple-alias-man, hmm, MAM lived in, probably off a weapon. Don't have that yet, but I can tell you it was rusty and had at least three different plant juices on it; probably a yard utensil. What's even more awesome of us though, is that we found a way to find him now."

"Wait, do you have an address? I can leave now. I would love to leave now..."

McGee held up his hand, "Hold up Tony, it involves using the drive-through cameras at his favorite fast food chain and adding a little facial recognition…" he stopped surprised as a beep was heard. "We have a ding? Already? How many burritos does this guy eat?"

Across the Skype feed, Tony's eager face filled the screen as he peered in the background, "It was more of a beep, I heard a beep."

Delighted, Abby agreed, "Definitely a beep Tony."

McGee muttered in the background, "It was a ding."

Abby continued, "And it means you get a road trip to lovely picturesque... Warsaw, Virginia Tony!"

Tim chimed in, "I'll contact you with his current address on the way, it'll take me just about as long as you to get there. And it was a ding."

"Beep." Tony shut the connection before racing out of the ship.

Abby spun on her chair in the empty lab, slurping happily on her Caf-Pow, and telling the mop-faces of Gibbs and Ziva, "Definitely a beep."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thanks so much again to everyone who has read my second story, and especially reviewers/PMers! You guys are wonderful - and reading your reviews has made me better about reviewing stories I like too. We're all passing it on! ;) Have to admit I'm sad my story is ending, but you guys make me want to write more as soon as plot bunny visits; thanks again!_

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Gibbs pulled at his collar while he and Ziva waited for the Prince's return. His throat hurt. _I'm glad Ziva is a witness to me talking for over fifteen minutes straight. While wearing a tie. _He thought he heard the click of a camera, but when he looked over at Ziva there was no phone showing and she looked innocent… too innocent. His eyes narrowed as he huffed out a breath.

They, but mostly Gibbs, had taken full advantage of the considerately granted thirty-minute audience they'd managed to secure. He had laid out the entire actions of one Anthony DiNozzo Senior for a very attentive, if wary, Prince Omar ibn Alwaar. In conclusion, Ziva had simply asked if His Excellency could suggest any way to make the situation right. Back in the basement campfire, she and Gibbs had discussed this was the best way to approach the Prince; that she, as a secondary representative, be the one to ask for help. And that Gibbs couldn't directly ask; as the wronged man's _de facto_ father it would be inappropriate.

After thinking quietly for several minutes, the Prince had stood gracefully and announced, "I have contacts I'd like to call upon immediately on this matter. Please do not think it implies disbelief in what you have described to me. Just that I count Mr. DiNozzo as one of my friends, and must find the truth of the matter from as many sources as I can. I will not keep you long. Mr. Fayek will see to any needs you many have."

_At least Mr. Fayek was able to produce some truly decent coffee, and not stingy with it either. _He pulled at his collar yet again, but he would have to give Tony credit for the gift someday, the shirt was strangely comfortable.

"I do not think His Excellency would mind if you took off your tie Gibbs." Ziva said with a smile.

Shaking his head regretfully, Gibbs answered, "You show respect, you get respect. We may have some reports to show him and a lot of details, but that doesn't entirely prove what we're claiming happened. Need all the help we can get."

On the Prince re-entering the room and taking his seat, Gibbs suspected this look was what passed for deeply troubled on the man.

"I do indeed have a suggestion for making the situation right. The money should never have been taken unwillingly or unknowingly from the son. Many things are expected, absolutely and immediately from one's children, but not that without grievous need. My friend Tony did not truly have that need."

"I will repay all money taken from your agent. He will never owe me anything for that… his father will. I believe my friend Tony would greatly benefit from employment at my investment company here in Riyadh. Full time employment requiring his presence at all times. 80% of his compensation will repay his debt to me. In two years, when the payout is expected from the Excelsior, he will complete paying back his debt, and then work for me another three years. By then I may allow him to travel to my other offices around the world. What is the desire of your Tony? Does he want an apology from his blood father?"

Gibbs was prepared for this question. "In an ideal world he might wish for it. In this one, he never wants to see or hear from him again. My Tony is happy with the restraining order I've placed against his blood father, as well as the removal of any legal relationship between them with the emancipation order that should be finalized in a few months. I'll be the intermediary if any future communications are needed."

"Then that is what shall be. Is this arrangement agreeable to you, and to your satisfaction Special Agent Gibbs?"

"Very much so Your Excellency, in all aspects." Gibbs wished it was jail, but being forced to actually work in an office for a living, while enjoying little to no female companionship, no freedom of movement from this torturously hot climate, and no liquor might just be the elder DiNozzo's version of hell. _Close enough to satisfy me at least. Can't wait to tell Tony... he'll laugh his ass off._

The Prince nodded solemnly once, then spoke towards the phone on the desk, "Do you agree to the terms I have called for Anthony? Come in now."

A red-faced, but collected Senior stepped through a side door and walked to the desk the Prince was seated at. He'd changed his flight plans after the… incident the other day at NCIS, covering his bases in case some damage control was necessary. Although he'd never imagined _this _being the fallout.

With a hand over his heart, Senior said smoothly, "Al, although I'm very happy to visit your homeland and deeply appreciate your hospitality when I'm here; I'm not fond of the idea of living here full time my friend."

Prince Omar ibn Alwaar was the very definition of implacable. "And your son was not fond of loosing his money nor thereby possessions from his home. Remediation must be made. This is how you will make it. Unless you have some other way of paying back this money today, my friend?"

Gibbs saw his SFA's ability to hide his true thoughts behind an affable mask in his father right now. _Although Tony's a hell of a lot better at it._

Everyone in the room knew Senior couldn't pay that money back. Gibbs saw the options flying through Mr. DiNozzo's mind, one of them involving a claim to go secure the money and a flight far far away, never to return. Gibbs held the older man's eyes for a moment, his glare intense as he cocked his head slightly, saying clearly without words: _try it._

He'd apparently said even more than that, judging by Senior's abrupt backing down, "Al... I happily accept your job offer and the terms you set."

As Senior and "Al" shook hands, Gibbs and Ziva exchanged a satisfied look.

* * *

"Boss! You're looking good with that blue shirt there! Is that the Armani I gave you?"

Gibbs glared at Ziva, overhearing the conversation next to him on the Prince's private plane. She continued to practice her innocent look, even adding a wide-eyed blink.

"Good to hear from you Boss, even if it's 03:00 here at work. _Man_ do we need coffee, McGoo. Send Dorneget again. What? So he is, well wake him up!"

The energy and glee in Tony's voice made Gibbs wish he was there, "What do you got DiNozzo?"

"McGee and I got a big present with a bow on it for you when you get back Boss; serial killer neighbor murdered Anderson and at least four others we can prove so far. We've got Callum, aka Multiple-Alias-Man in our custody for now, FBI took over rest of the sites. McGee and I got MAM cold in his creepy stalker room, pictures everywhere, planning out his next victim Boss. And I'll have you know I tackled him onto a _couch_ Boss - soft cushy couch, no concussion at all. He bit me on the forearm and insulted McGee's jacket pretty severely, but in all fairness McNeo - the _Matrix_ look really is over now. Anyway, Ducky says no lasting damage for me or the jacket."

Gibbs could swear Tony paused just for his boss to roll his eyes at that.

"MAM coughed up in interrogation that Anderson came over to retrieve his yard shears, saw something he shouldn't have with formerly missing female victim #4 Lisa Dunston, so he wacked the poor guy with his own shears. Abby got loaded up with evidence from McGee and Dorneget processing MAM's other homes/murder sites while I was still on the _Bush_... and you know I'm tired if I'm not making a comment about that. Anyway, we'll be turning the non-Anderson evidence over to the FBI... sometime later today, hence the paperwork party. We'll hold onto MAM until we wrap our case completely - Ducky and Palmer should be getting Anderson's body from the FBI excavation team late tomorrow, I mean today. MAM confessed he road-tripped the bodies to a marshy area in Dismal Swamp State Park, North Carolina. Really, with a name like that they were asking for the psychos, right?" Tony's smile came in clearly over the long-distance phone call.

"That's good work from a cold case DiNozzo. Pass it on to McGee and Abby too... and Dorneget if he gets back with the coffee in ten minutes. Get some sleep before you pick us up in fifteen hours." Hanging up, Gibbs looked out the window. Yep, his pup's nose was wet again all right. His smile of pride turned to a quiet snicker as he patted the contents of his jacket's breast pocket; _I'll have a present with a bow on it for you too DiNozzo_.

- Fin -


End file.
